


A steppe forward

by NightsMistress



Category: Final Fantasy XIII Series, Final Fantasy XIII-2
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Paradox Ending: The Future is Hope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-22
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-04-13 06:41:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4511802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightsMistress/pseuds/NightsMistress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Archylte Steppe, Year Unknown.  Serah and Snow have been working hard to collect the thirteen crystals necessary to stop Caius's plans, and have just finished collecting the last one. But they have finished their self-appointed task late in the day, and Serah seems to have something on her mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A steppe forward

**Author's Note:**

  * For [laughingpineapple](https://archiveofourown.org/users/laughingpineapple/gifts).



> I should feel bad for the pun in the title ... but I absolutely do not.
> 
> My thanks to Larissa for the fantastic beta job.

The Archylte Steppe was a wide grassy plain, so wide that Serah didn’t think that they would ever find the edges of it. It was a borderless place, and so it made a peculiar kind of sense that the last crystal that Serah and Snow needed was to be found in fissure of time, a border in a land that knew none at all. The fight had been hard, with Snow being badly injured by the monster swiping at him with terribly sharp claws. He had been shielding Serah while she aimed her bow at the one weak point they had identified from the monster, so nervous energy and guilt had driven Serah to build up their campsite around the temporary shelter where Snow slept to recover from the healing spells and shock. That had kept her mind occupied for a few hours until dusk, allowing her to understand that while Snow had protected her this time, she had protected him as well. She was stronger now. She was his partner, as well as his fiancée.

She stacked firewood she collected into a lattice, like how Noel had taught her. She and Lightning hadn’t gone on many camping trips, and certainly not with an actual fire, and so on the start of her journey had no idea how to start one. Noel, child from an erased future, knew all about making a fire and had laughed at her feeble attempts before showing her how it was done. Now she was as accomplished as him, with the fire starting from the first few matches, and starting to lick at the kindling as she dragged over a log, its bark already stripped away by her efforts earlier in the afternoon. It was the perfect size for sitting on while she waited for their stew to cook.

The stew was the remains of their supplies: carrots, potatoes, lamb. If there was anything unusual about them all being sourced from different times and places, Serah couldn’t tell. They seemed to cook the same, and when flavoured with local herbs it seemed different every time. She had found some wild rosemary earlier, in a garden left to grow wild and tangled, and had taken a few leaves to flavour the stew. She cut the vegetables and lamb and placed them into the pot along with water, and then shredded the rosemary into the mix. It wouldn’t be the best meal she had made, but it would be warm and nourishing. Tomorrow, in Academia, they could have better.

The fire at this point had burned through the kindling and was starting to make inroads into the larger logs that made the walls of the fire. It was hot enough now to start to prepare their dinner and so she assembled the metal stand that suspended the pot over the fire, before hanging the pot on the hook and lowering the stand until the pot was suspended a hand width above the highest flames. Then, with the sigh of a job completed, she sat down on the log and closed her eyes a moment to enjoy the sweet smell of crushed grass, the earthy smell of the dirt trapped under the log she was sitting on, and the smell of the fire, both sharp and smoky at the same time.

It had been a long day, but hopefully they were coming to the end of those.

Opening her eyes again, Serah opened the hardwood box near her feet. The chocolate brown stain of the wood gave no indication of it contents to the outside observer. Inside laid thirteen crystals, each small enough to nestle comfortably in the palm of her hand and all brilliantly iridescent as though there was a flame that burned inside each one. A twist in time, Snow told her, with the crystal building around the distortion like a pearl. The one they had claimed today glowed the impossible flame-red of the sunset of the time that the monster had come from, fallen from a future where Academia was built and reached out to strangle the sky in smog. 

It was like an artefact, she thought, slightly moving the crystal from side to side to catch the light from the fire. Both were twists of time, caused by distortions in the timeline, and both were used to travel from one place to another. The difference that Serah could see was that only artefact was needed to open a gate, whereas all thirteen of the crystals were needed to open a different kind of portal. At least this time she would know where they would end up! Every time they claimed another crystal Serah knew that they were closer to reaching Valhalla and her sister. Not how she saw the future, but instead an intrinsic understanding deep in her bones that _this_ time they would reach Lightning. 

She heard the familiar noise of Snow waking up, a sort of grunted snort that she thought was utterly adorable, and carefully returned the crystal to the box. She had meant to buy fabric to make pouches for them to protect them against fractures, but she’d never had the time. They hadn’t broken, but she was still careful when she slid the box into the gap between the log and her calves. 

That done, she looked up, and up, and up. When they were both standing, Snow towered over her. From her seated position and illuminated by the fire, he looked like a flame-washed god from a story, a sleepy god with pants barely hanging to his hips. He blinked and frowned at the little campsite that Serah had built while he was sleeping: the smooth log for sitting on, the small stack of firewood for tending the fire, and the stew suspended over the flames. She hadn’t been able to do much about the shelter he was sleeping in, as it was just a waterproof sheet pinned to the ground on one side and tied to the motorbike and a nearby tree on the other, but now that Snow was awake they could do better.

“Sit down!” Serah urged, patting the log she was sitting on. “You’ve been asleep a couple of hours, but those cuts was pretty nasty. And I promise there’s no splinters.”

“If you’re promising then I know there aren’t any,” Snow said, and walked the few feet from the shelter to sit down beside Serah. His movements were far less pained than they had been several hours ago, Serah noted with approval. Part of that was Serah’s doing, which she took great pride in. She wasn’t as good at healing magic as Noel, Vanille or Hope, but she was definitely better than Snow. Of course, some of why he healed so well though was Snow’s natural resilience. As long as Serah had known him he was always as strong as a behemoth, and with the muscles to match, so it was little wonder he took to the magic so well. It was a good thing too, as it would be such a shame for his chest to be marred. She took a moment to admire it; she might see his bare chest every day _now_ , but he had been gone for a long time. He was her fiancé, after all!

“It looks like it healed up just fine!” Snow said, noticing her look if not necessarily her reason for it. “You did a good job.”

Serah laughed a little, embarrassed at being caught out. “I was just thinking that it looked good.”

“Yeah,” Snow said, craning his head so that he could see the places where the claws had gone. Instead of ripped flesh, there was smooth skin over hard muscle, as if the injuries had never happened before. “If it’d been left up to me it’d still be bleeding all over the place. It’s a good thing you were here.”

“It’s a good thing we were both here,” Serah corrected. “I thought we were goners before!”

Snow’s laugh was self-deprecating. “It _was_ a little harder than I expected.”

That startled a laugh out of Serah. “A little! When it came at you I thought there was no way you would be okay from that!”

Snow slung his arm around Serah, and she was struck anew at how _muscular_ he was as he turned at the waist so he could see her and keep his arm around her. “No way!” he said. “Heroes never die while the heroine is there!”

Serah had read any number of stories where the hero did die, in a blaze of glory, protecting the one they loved. As a child she had thought they were terribly romantic; now she thought of them as terribly sad. She couldn’t bear to think of a time where Snow died to protect her, though she knew objectively that he would if she would let him. Or, she supposed, if Lightning had.

“Ah, Snow,” Serah sighed. “Were you like this, when you were travelling with my sister?”

Snow cracked a grin at this. “Worse,” he said cheerfully.

Serah raised her eyebrows, like she was talking to one of her students who had done something very silly and were denying it. “You really need better influences in your life.”

“I have you,” Snow pointed out. He smiled as he said it, though not without that thread of sadness that was interwoven in all of what he did now. Serah wasn’t sure if it was because of the l’Cie brand on his arm, or because Lightning’s disappearance had a toll on all of them, or that he could see Fang and Vanille’s sacrifice every time he looked to the sky, but she knew it was there. 

She leaned down to reach into the bag on the other side of her legs. She didn’t need to reach far into the pouch at the front, and when she felt the cool smoothness of metal she pulled out Snow’s engagement necklace. The Cocoon pendant nestled easily into the palm of her hand, with the chain escaping out the side of her palm between her thumb and forefinger and trailing to ground. She’d often held it like this in New Bodhum, hoping that this day would be the last time she would have to hold it for Snow. She was tired of waiting. 

“Talking about good influences …” she started, bringing her hand up to her lap as she spoke. “I want you to wear this.” 

She opened her palm. The Cocoon pendant reflected the light of the fire, making the silvery metal look warm and inviting. 

“Serah …” It was a pained sigh and that hurt because Serah understood why it hurt him so. She understood the idea of wanting to bring Lighting back so much, of denying yourself happiness and joy because she wasn’t there to share it with you, of keeping your whole life on hold _waiting_ … But she also had come to understand that in seeking Lightning, in searching for her beloved sister, that Lightning wanted her to be happy. This whole quest of fixing the timeline and making it what it should have been would be meaningless without human connections. Her world was the people she loved.

Snow’s palm was up and his fingers lightly curled despite his sigh, propped on his knee. She shifted on the log so that she was facing him more, and gently put the Cocoon pendant into his hand, pressing his fingers closed over it and wrapping his hand with hers. He let her, looking at her beseechingly, begging for _something_. She wasn’t sure what she needed to say to make things better, but she thought she knew what the truth was. That, she thought, was what he needed to hear.

“I know you said you wanted me to keep it until we found Lightning,” Serah said steadily, gazing back at Snow and willing him to understand. “But … I have a good feeling about this. I think … I think we’ll find her right after this.”

For a terrible, heart-stopping moment Snow was expressionless, and Serah’s breath caught in her throat. What if she had come on too aggressively? In the past it had been him to make the dramatic gestures to her, and he always did it with the breezy confidence that she envied. The best she could do was sincerity. Still, she didn’t look away from him. She meant what she said, even if her words were clumsy and awkward, and meant what she hadn’t said then but had in the past; that he was a good man, she loved him, he was her hero. She wanted so badly to believe that this time she had found the right words for Snow to understand what she truly meant.

She felt his fingers tighten over the pendant and looked down at her hand in surprise.

“All right.” Snow’s voice was rough with emotion. Under the fall of her hair, Serah looked up at his face. It was difficult to interpret the mix of emotions on Snow’s face, but she felt that the dominant one was relief. That, more than anything, showed her that she had done the right thing. Snow had been under so much pressure since Serah had been branded, and releasing that tension meant that she had done the right thing. She let the tension inside her dissipate by exhaling slowly, her shoulders sagging with the effort.

As she watched, Snow reached to suspend the necklace around his neck and began to fiddle with the clasp. His expression changed to mild frustration as he kept fumbling the clasp, either not opening it far enough or not aligning the two pieces of metal properly, or trying to thumb open the wrong side of the clasp. After the fourth try he frowned in consternation and brought his hands forward to suspend the pendant in front of his face.

“I swear you were easier to do up before,” he muttered. “You’re making me look bad.”

Serah’s giggles bubbled out of her at this point and she covered her mouth with her hand to try to hold them back. It didn’t work. This wasn’t quite how she had envisaged this going. “Do you want a hand with that?”

“Sure,” Snow said. “Your fingers are more nimble than mine.”

“I like your fingers,” said Serah as she stepped over the log behind Snow. He brought his hands back, still holding the chain, and Serah took the ends just under his own hands. Doing the clasp up when you could see it was far easier, Serah found, and even the flimsy metal that made up the lever for the hook was easier to manipulate. It was done up in a matter of seconds, but she held the chain in her hands for a moment longer. She took the moment to savour the smell of Snow’s cologne, mingled with sweat and skin, and how that meant ‘Snow’ to her. She’d missed that, and how he would insist on wearing it even in the most ridiculous of circumstances because she was there and he knew she liked it. Even now, fighting for their lives, he wore it. It was terribly endearing.

She let the clasp fall to rest against the back of his neck, and draped her arms over his shoulders, hands linking over his chest, under Cocoon. He was so tall that she could rest her arms on his shoulders without having to bend her knees. He looked up at her, craning his neck so that he could see her better. He was smiling, like he hadn’t since the fal’Cie chose her and then him. Since Lightning disappeared one day, leaving her sobbing over her broken heart on the wide open plains of Gran Pulse. He smiled other times, of course, bright and sunny enough to dazzle the eyes of most, but Serah could see through that to the sadness underneath. She used to do the same thing after all. She had definitely done the right thing by helping him wear his engagement necklace.

“You got our wedding planned yet?” From this position Serah could feel the words in his chest through her own as well as hear what he was saying. Resting her hand on his chest when he spoke had been one of her favourite things to do when they first started going out. It felt like the rumble of the motorbike he used to travel the timeline, all strength and power contained and harnessed for doing good things. 

“Hm,” she hummed. “Some of it. Mostly the guest list.” She laughed, then, because she knew that her wishes for her guest list were at best aspirational. “It might be hard to get everyone there. We’re all from different times.”

“Don’t worry about it! You just make the list and me and my motorbike will get ‘em all there.”

Serah thought about her guest list as she sat back down on the log next to Snow. She leaned her head against his shoulder as she deliberated whether to suggest everyone she really wanted, or start reasonably. She _wanted_ everyone there, because they had all been such a huge part of their journey to fix the timeline, but a very practical part of her was aware that that may be quite impossible. Still, as a thought exercise, it was nice.

“All right,” she said thoughtfully, pressing her finger to the side of her face as she considered where to start. “Let’s see … Lightning and Noel for sure. I don’t think they’d _ever_ forgive me if they weren’t in my bridal party.”

“I’ll trade you,” Snow said, with a laugh. “Lebreau for Noel.”

“Of course!” Serah nodded her agreement. “Everyone in NORA too, including little Snow. She can be the ring bearer.”

“Vanille’d like that,” said Snow. He sounded a little sad, but Serah could hear him trying to be cheerful and so she tried to keep the mood light.

“She would, wouldn’t she?” She smiled. “I can just imagine her trying to train little Snow to walk down the aisle, with Fang laughing at her.”

“And while she’s doing that, I can find Sazh and Dajh, and Hope too.” The thread of sadness and resignation was gone from Snow’s voice and posture, caught up in Serah’s dream of their wedding. It was synergistic, the way that they could build on one another’s comments and make things better. It might have been sad once, wanting a miracle to happen so their wedding could be what they dreamed of, but that was before Serah learned that you had to make your own miracles. This was the miracle she wanted: her loved ones together at last. Though, that did remind her of a slight problem.

“But which Hope?”

Snow shrugged. “I can bring them all, if that’s what you want.”

Serah giggled at the mental picture of Snow casually riding his motorbike through the timeline, casually grabbing every Hope that he came across, and how much that would get under Hope’s skin. His reaction to Snow’s intervention had been an eye-opener; Serah didn’t think that Hope was capable of that kind of irritation anymore. Imagining Snow riding along with Hope telling him off testily from his seat behind him was too good. However, she knew practically it wasn’t really an option. Her understanding of temporal mechanics wasn’t as good as it could be, but she was fairly sure that having multiple Hopes out of time would cause a paradox and she said as much.

“Nah,” Snow said, with a wave of his hand, dismissing the problem. “If there’s anyone who can make it happen, it’s that kid.”

“Kid?” Serah shook her head incredulously while laughing. “He’s older than you are now!”

“He’ll always be a kid!”

“I don’t think you should say that to his face,” said Serah wryly.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” said Snow in a tone of voice that meant that he would, but say it to Hope’s face anyway. Serah wished she could see his reaction. She supposed, though, that if it did happen Hope would tell her about it later, somehow presenting his frustration and annoyance as a reasonable and neutral response to Snow’s actions. She looked forward to it. “So when do you want the wedding?”

“As soon as we can, once we find Lightning.”

“You can’t wait either?”

“Nope! I’ve waited _years_ for our wedding. I’m not going to let anything stop us now. Not broken time and space, not Valhalla, nothing.”

“All right!” He punched his fists together. “Tomorrow, we’ll take on everything!”

“Everything?” Serah asked with a giggle.

“Everything that stands in our path.”

Serah sighed, content, and took Snow’s hand in her own, interlacing their fingers. Around them were the sounds of the nocturnal life of the Steppe coming out from their daytime slumber. If there had been the salt of the sea and the washing of the waves against the shore, she would think them back in New Bodhum, on a clandestine camping trip away. While there may be more powerful monsters in this place, and no ocean, it still felt very private. It was … nice, for lack of a better word. Sitting in a quiet place that she had created with her own two hands, near a fire she had built, her long-lost fiancé by her side and a plan to save the timeline and her sister.

As the stew cooked over the fire and she rested her head against Snow’s bare shoulder once more, Serah thought, _Lightning, can you see us here in this place where you are? I know if you could see us, you’d be happy for me. I can imagine your smile, like how you did that day Cocoon fell in the real timeline. Do you remember smiling like that? If you don’t … we’ll remind you again. That’s a promise._


End file.
